A Different Path
by NorthAmericanJaguar
Summary: Fire will save the clan. That is the prophecy given by StarClan to ThunderClan. But what happens when instead of joining ThunderClan, Rusty becomes one of ShadowClan? Will he still manage to fulfill a prophecy or will his flame be doused by the darkness of his adopted clan? That is, if ShadowClan is really as evil as the other clans believe...
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hey, guys! This is NorthAmericanJaguar, some of you may know me from the Ninjago archive. I'm here, publishing another story (though I have so many already!). Don't worry; I'm not abandoning my other stories. I just needed to get this idea out before I forgot it and I needed a bit of a break from Ninjago for a little bit. But once again; don't freak out, I'll have my next chapter for "The Power Swap" up in a day. Anyway, this is a list I created of the Shadow Clan cats at the start of "Into The Wild," in order to get a better feel of the characters. I don't know how accurated it is, but I did the best I could, thanks to the Warriors Wiki. The actual story begins next page. Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors. **

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**Shadow Clan **

Leader: Brokenstar- long haired dark brown tabby tom

Deputy: Blackfoot- massive white tom with jet black paws

Medicine Cat: Runningnose- small gray and white tom

Warriors: Stumpytail- brown tabby tom, Crowtail- small black she-cat, Boulder- silver tabby tom, Russetfur- dark ginger she-cat, amber eyes,Clawface- brown scarred tom, Hollyflower- dark gray and white she-cat, Nutwhisker- brown tom, amber eyes, Nightpelt- black tom, Flintfang- gray tom, Fernshade- tortoiseshell she-cat with patched fur, Scorchwind- ginger tabby tom, Dawncloud- pale ginger she-cat, Wolfstep- gray tabby tom with a shredded ear, Newtspeck- mottled black and ginger tabby she-cat

Apprentices: Littlepaw-small brown tabby tom, blue eyes,Clawface's apprentice, Wetpaw- gray tabby tom, Boulder's apprentice, Brownpaw- brown tabby tom, Stumpytail's apprentice, Firepaw- ginger tom, green eyes, Blackfoot's apprentice

Queens: Brightflower- black and white she-cat, Dawncloud- small tabby

Elders: Ashfur- thin gray tom


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: ****Alright, my first Warriors fic. *Deep breath* Here we go! In this storyline, Rusty didn't encounter Graypaw in the forest, but returned to his twolegs with nothing. This begins the night after. Constructive criticism and comments are always appreciated- reviews are part of what keep an author motivated! Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors.**

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Rusty sat on the edge of the fence, overlooking his owner's garden. He sat with his back to the forest, trying to ignore the way breeze tugged at his fur, drawing him closer and closer to the wilderness. The dream of catching a mouse lingered at the front of his mind, tantalizingly vivid.

"I'm surprised you're still here. You're usually out in the forest by now."

He jumped at the unexpected voice, digging his claws into the fence post to keep his balance. He turned to see his friend, Smudge, peering up at him from the ground below. Bunching his muscles, the black and white cat leapt up to sit beside his best friend.

Unlike Rusty, Smudge wasn't a graceful cat, and his sense of balance was limited even at the best of times, so he balanced somewhat uncertainly on top of the fence. Rusty felt a sudden surge of gratitude and affection for the black and white cat.

"I know," Rusty mewed at last. "But I don't feel like it tonight."

Smudge's eyes grew as wide as moons. "Is this even possible? _Rusty _doesn't feel like exploring the forest? Did you run into any vicious forest cats last night?" He was only half joking about the last part.

Rusty shook his head. "No."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know. I just though that last night was going to be different, that something life changing was going to happen. That I was going to at least catch that mouse." He scuffled his paws, slightly embarrassed by his admission. It was true; last night _had _felt different, though Rusty couldn't explain why. He'd secretly been hoping that the wild cats of the forest did exist. In a way, he'd half expected to meet one, and then-

Rusty sighed. And then what? The wild cats would invite him to come live in the forest with them?

"Go catch that mouse."

"What?" He looked at his best friend in surprise. Smudge had never encouraged him venturing out into the forest before. Usually, Smudge was trying to talk him _out _of seeing the forest!

"Go catch that mouse," the black and white cat meowed again. "You've been sulking in the garden all day, and I'm bored. We can lay around when we're fat and lazy like Henry! Maybe this whole 'I-got-to-go-find-myself-in-the-woods' thing is just a phase, and if you catch that mouse, you'll be happy and move on."

"Maybe," said Rusty. He turned back towards the forest, already feeling encouraged. His paws tingled in anticipation. Maybe Smudge was right; if he could catch this mouse then he could return to his house satisfied. Although he doubted that one catch would end his craving for the woods for good, it would definitely cheer him up for several days.

His mouth watered at the thought of a plump, juicy piece of prey.

Mind made up, he jumped off the fence. His paws touched the earth with barely a sound. The forest loomed before him, and the chirping of the crickets seemed to grow louder. The stars were out, and the night was so clear that he could practically taste the moonlight. Tonight was the night.

He took a step closer to the trees.

"Hey, you're welcome!" called Smudge from the fence.

"Thanks," Rusty glanced back at his friend, stifling a _mrrow_ of amusement. Then he set off into the forest.

The last thing he heard from Smudge before being swallowed up by the trees and the darkness was; "And I'm serious- don't get eaten by any wild cats!"

Rusty's whiskers twitched in amusement. Smudge was a good friend; he was lucky to have him. As the ginger tomcat crept deeper into the forest, he abruptly changed direction. Staying in the same place reminded him too much of last night's failure. Besides, it would be good to have a change in hunting grounds. Wasn't that what every good hunter needed?

Eventually, Rusty noticed that the terrain was changing. The ground felt wet and almost spongy beneath his paws. The deciduous trees of the forest were replaced by pine. The light of the moon through the trees cast dark shadows on the ground, like stripes or possibly claw marks. There was no undergrowth on the forest floor, and the ginger tom felt strangely vulnerable by the openness.

Hardly giving it a second thought, Rusty slipped into the shadows. Because of his bright pelt, it wasn't easy to stay hidden in the shadows. He did a good job of it though, treading quietly as he wound through the darkness. In his mind, it became a game: sneak through the swamp without being seen.

So focused on his game, the ginger tomcat wasn't paying attention to where he placed his paws. He reached the bank of a large puddle, nearly falling in with a yowl of alarm. But he stopped just in time, front paws causing ripples on the surface of the murky water.

A frog leapt out.

"Come back here!" he meowed. The frog simply hopped right past him, and Rusty took chase. He wasn't going to let his prey get away that easily! It wasn't a mouse, but so what? Prey was prey.

He sprung, catching the frog in his hooked claws. He dispatched his prey with one swift bite, then studied the body uncertainly. His stomach growled, both in excitement and in hunger from his long journey. Was he really going to go through with this?

Rusty nudged the frog, not sure how to begin his meal. How would he get off the skin? Should he start with the head? What if the frog was poisonous?

But the urge to eat his fresh kill was too much. Bending down, he tore into the frog's stomach, using one paw to keep it in place. The skin was thick and rubbery, and for a moment Rusty considered spitting it out and giving up on eating his kill all together. Then he tasted the meat.

Rusty closed his eyes, savoring the unique flavor. It was as fresh and tender as the skin had been rubbery and disgusting. There was no way to describe the taste, nothing to compare it to; he had never eaten meat before. But he knew one thing for sure: he definitely planned on catching another frog sometime soon.

At last he finished his meal, even licking off the last little tidbits that clung to the bones. His stomach was full, and he had been away from home longer than he'd planned on. Rusty stretched, ready to head back. He couldn't wait to tell Smudge about his latest adventure!

He turned, but froze at what stood in front of him.

Two cats, one a massive white tom with jet black paws, the other a silver tabby, were watching him. The white one took a step forward, amber eyes burning with aggression. "Well, well. What do we have here?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed!**

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"It's only a kittypet," meowed the silver tabby, seeing Rusty's collar. He flicked his tail dismissively. "And a young one in that. We can just chase him back to the twoleg nest, and I doubt we'll hear from him ever again."

The white tom gave a skeptical snort. "Young kittypets grow up, Boulder. We can't afford to have a kit, never mind a full-grown cat, stealing our prey. Besides, he trespassed on our territory, and for that we should teach him a lesson he won't forget!" He unsheathed his claws.

"I didn't know that this was your territory," Rusty mewed, suddenly feeling very small compared to the two full-grown cats. He wasn't sure what a kittypet was, but by the anger in the tom's voice, it wasn't good. Their muscles rippled under their pelts, evidence of their harsh forest life. Smudge was right, there were wild cats in the forest. "But why don't you share? I'm sure there's enough frogs for everybody!"

"Of course a kittypet would think that." The white tom rolled his eyes.

"What did you just call me?"

"A kittypet." The white tom's eyes narrowed coldly. "A cat who is weak and pathetic. Like you."

"A cat who lives with twolegs," the silver cat, Boulder, clarified.

_He must mean a cat who lives with housefolk,_ Rusty realized. He looked a little harder at the duo, and realized with surprise that he could see the faint trace of their ribs through their fur. While the two cats certainly weren't starved, food wasn't easy for them to come by, either. The ginger tom felt a twinge of guilt thinking about his soft, easy life. He was hunting for sport, but they were hunting for survival.

Solemnly, he raised his head to meet the gaze of the white cat. "I didn't know it was so hard to find food here, I'm sorry. I will not hunt here again."

Surprise registered in the eyes of his adversary. Clearly, the white tom hadn't been expecting that response.

"He certainly is an unusual kittypet," remarked Boulder. The silver tabby suddenly looked thoughtful. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Blackfoot?"

Blackfoot. So that was the white cat's name. Rusty made sure to remember it.

"Probably not," sighed Blackfoot with an irritable flick of his ears. "But go ahead."

"ShadowClan is in need of new apprentices, and you know how Brokenstar's methods of gaining new warriors are rather… challenging. Perhaps we could recruit an apprentice instead!"

"You want to take him back to ShadowClan and train him as a warrior? But he doesn't even have Clan blood!" Blackfoot looked horrified by the idea. Rusty felt indignant- what difference did it make whether or not he was born in the forest?

"Russetfur wasn't born in ShadowClan either," Boulder pointed out. "And neither was I."

"You weren't born in the forest?" Rusty's eyes widened. So it was possible for cats outside of the wild cats to suvive in the woods. He felt a thrill of excitement. He wasn't alone, there were other cats like him out there who felt drawn to the forest. Boulder shook his head.

"But you might not be cut out for ShadowClan life," growled Blackfoot. "Our life isn't easy. You must train hard to become a warrior. Danger will come in many forms and you will be bound to defend the clan, even with your life if necessary. Prey will become scarce and in the winter you will shiver in the cold. Are you sure you want to live like that?"

Boulder broke in. "But you are a natural ShadowClan cat, if not by birth, than by instinct. We watched you as you crept through the shadows and we followed you, wondering how far into our territory you could go before another cat caught you. The only thing that gave you away was the slight ringing of your collar. Needless to say, we were impressed."

"Is life here really so hard?" meowed Rusty

The silver tabby nodded. "It is a difficult life, but a rewarding one. You will know what it is to be part of something greater than yourself. In the clan, you will make friendships and alliances that will last a lifetime. You will be free to choose your own path, and life will be an adventure." His eyes glittered mischievously. "And not to mention, frogs are somewhat of a delicacy here in ShadowClan."

"Can I have some time to think about it?" asked Rusty hesitantly. He thought about Smudge and his housefolk. Could he really leave them and everything else he knew behind? On the other paw, these cats were offering him the life he'd always imagined!

This time Blackfoot spoke, and Boulder didn't contradict him. "No. You must choose now."

"I… I can't." Rusty shook his head. Everything was happening far to quickly. If he was to leave his old life behind, he wanted to at least say goodbye to his old home. The two ShadowClan warriors nodded in understanding, Blackfoot more in a self-satisfied sort of way than his companion. Then they turned around, slinking back into heart of the swamp.

Rusty watched as all of his hopes and dreams for a different life walked away with them. Soon, it became too much. "Wait- I'm coming with you!" he called, racing after them. They didn't wait for the young ginger cat to catch up, but continued on their way.

But he could've sworn he'd seen the ghost of a smile on Boulder's face when he at last reached their side. The three cats prowled through the darkness, the only sound being the tinkling of Rusty's collar.

Finally Blackfoot growled; "Make that infernal racket stop! I can't take it any longer!"

"I can't," he admitted. "It's stuck around my neck."

Without warning, Blackfoot leapt onto the younger cat's back, pinning him to the ground. Rusty struggled against the weight of the warrior, panicked. He could feel the white tom's hot breath, and then a horrible pressure around his neck. Blackfoot had sank his teeth into the collar. Was he trying to kill him?

With a loud snap, the collar broke. Blackfoot tumbled off the ginger tom, carried by his own momentum. Rusty shakily stood up, gasping for air.

"There," Blackfoot spat the collar disdainfully on the ground, covering it as if he were burying dirt. "Now we can all have some peace and quiet." Rusty and Boulder were silent.

The silence continued until they neared ShadowClan camp, a hollow deep in ShadowClan territory, guarded by prickly bramble bushes. Rusty could smell the scent of many cats- more than had ever smelt in his life. Suddenly, he felt very nervous.

Boulder seemed nervous as well. "Now," he told Rusty. "I want you to be on your best behavior. You are about to meet Brokenstar, the leader of our clan. Brokenstar has… a bit of a temper. Be polite. Be respectable. But above all, act like a ShadowClan warrior."

Rusty was about to ask what that would be like, considering he really didn't know what was expected of a ShadowClan warrior, but at that moment, they reached the camp. Two sentries stood at the entrance.

"Hollyflower, Nutwhisker." Blackfoot nodded his head towards the two warriors before stepping inside. Boulder and Rusty followed.

"Blackfoot's very powerful in the Clan," Boulder murmured in the ginger tom's ear. "He's the deputy, which means he's second in command."

Despite it being nighttime, ShadowClan camp was surprisingly active, thought Rusty. Cats meandered around the camp, some speaking quietly to one another while others scuffled in the sand. Battle training.

Boulder followed his gaze.

"Much of ShadowClan is active at night. Since our territory lacks cover to hid in, it's the best time to hunt. We are cats of the shadows, after all."

A hush fell over the ShadowClan cats as they noticed the newcomer. Several shot him distrustful glares before coming closer for a better look. A tabby queen quickly herded her kits into the nursery. A large brown tom emerged from the den furthest from the camp entrance.

"Brokenstar," whispered Boulder, his voice reverent. Fearful even.

Rusty's heart pounded faster as Brokenstar came towards them. The leader was even more terrifying up close. His dark brown fur was ragged and patched, and his broad face had a haughty, diagreeable look to it. Upon seeing Rusty, he bared his teeth, revealing yellowed fangs.

"Blackfoot." He addressed his deputy, eerily calm. "What is this outsider doing in our camp?"

The whole Clan waited with baited breath for the deputy's response. Blackfoot fidgeted uncomfortably under his leader's gaze. "Well, I… Boulder and I found him wandering around in ShadowClan territory. He was a decent hunter, for a kittypet, so I thought it was wise to recruit him. Another set of paws for ShadowClan."

"You let a _kittypet _into our camp?"

Blackfoot realized his blunder too late and tried to backtrack. "It was Boulder's idea!"

"I don't care whose idea it was!" Brokenstar hissed angrily. "You are my deputy, so I expect more from you. A soft kittypet is of no use to us! You have shown a serious lack of judgement today, Blackfoot, and for that the kittypet must die."

Rusty tensed up. He was going to die? Frantically, he looked around for a way to escape. But it was no use, he was surrounded on all sides by the ShadowClan cats.

_Why did I even come here?_ He silently cried. _I'm too young- it wasn't supposed to end like this! _

Trembling, Rusty forced himself to evenly meet Brokenstar's gaze. The leader unsheathed his claws, his gaze burning back into the ginger tom's own. Blackfoot took an uncertain step forward, looking as if he were about to speak but then though better of it.

This did not go unnoticed by Brokenstar. "Do you have something you want to say, Blackfoot?"

"No!" His deputy shook his head.

"Do you care for this pathetic kittypet?" Brokenstar taunted, jabbing a claw at Rusty. His eyes narrowed. "Then you know what? You can keep him."

"What?"

Brokenstar turned towards Rusty. "From this moment on, you will be known as Firepaw. In honor of your flaming pelt and insolent personality. Your mentor will be Blackfoot."

He turned towards Blackfoot. "From this moment on, you will train Firepaw. He is your responsibility and your apprentice. If anything happens to him while he's under your care, you will be severely punished."

With that, Brokenstar paced back to his den.

Firepaw looked at his new mentor in dismay. _Of all cats, why him? _

And he could tell that Blackfoot was thinking the same thing.


End file.
